To Live After Death
by Ookami-Shoujo
Summary: After escaping the capital, Rikichi and Sanae find themselves adrift from each another in Kanna. Unable to love Rikichi, Sanae has withdrawn into her own depression, wanting only to die. Rikichi wants nothing more than for them to live.
1. Who We Were

Ever since watching Samurai 7, I've been definitely thinking of writing a few stories on the anime. I noticed there weren't a lot (are there any? I'm not certain) of fanfictions that focused on Rikichi and Sanae. So I thought I'd write one! Well, I hope you enjoy it, though I will warn my readers now, there is a great possibility that my updates will be a little sporadic. Apologies for future tardiness.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Samurai 7. All I have is my personal interpretation of it.

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Chapter One—Who We Were

Flying high on top of the thermals, a lone hawk soared in his natural element. Strong and fearless, he did not hesitate to swoop down through the sands of the desert, grasping at a small rodent before it could flee. He wheeled up higher and higher with his prey, wings spread as if to greet the sun above him. His meal wriggled weakly in his talons, unable to escape. He was at home.

His eyes immediately caught an unexpected sight which moved along the sands at a rapid speed that he could not match even with the winds on his side. He flew down in a lazy spiral to find a suitable place to feast on his dinner, all the while keeping an eye on the bright pink ship that sped quickly away. Landing on a rock warmed by the sun, he tore open the rodent's throat, engulfing red, stringy tendrils of flesh and muscle. It warmed his belly and instinct told him that he would survive another day. Satisfied with the way of the world, he was at peace and at home in this desert. The inhabitants on the moving ship never even saw him, except for one sharp-eyed man dressed in red that would have stood out plainly against the desert sands sitting in the back, who wouldn't have told anyone about the avian anyways.

At the front of the ship, a blonde-haired man grinned fiercely as he watched the land around him pass by faster than the eye could catch. Shichiroji relished the feeling of being in control of such a powerful vehicle; it brought back memories of his past travels and the wars in which he would wield similar machines with ease. Pulse beginning to increase, he could almost taste that blood and fear in the air. He was no sadist, but there was just something about being in the midst of battle that made him feel alive.

Down in the lower decks of the vessel, a woman sat in a darkened corner, away from the hustle and bustle that seemed to invade all other parts of this ship, her face shielded by long locks of dark greenish-grey hair. Her brown eyes were dulled with pain as she stared sightlessly at the ground, and she hugged her knees tightly against her chest, as if to become as small as possible. Another fit of despair had overtaken her while she had been with the other girls, and she had quickly rushed off to find a place to be alone. All she wanted now was to die. There was nothing in this world that could keep her here.

_Not_ _anymore_.

As if in response to her feelings of despair, a hatch opened from above, and a set of stairs slowly descended. A pair of feet in well-worn sandals stepped down, followed by the body, and finally the head of brown hair that appeared red in the sunlight covered partially by a hat. Worried, light brown eyes gazed at the turned away figure as he clutched the side of the opening to keep himself steady on the forever-rocking ship. "Sanae? Are you feeling all right?" His voice was gentle, but with a hitch of pain as if it hurt him to speak to her.

The woman named Sanae did not respond to his question, merely tightening her grip on her knees and burying her head as closely as possible to her body.

He walked forward, stopping at her side but did not reach to make contact—hands kept firmly by his sides, though a finger or two twitched in wistfulness to touch her, to comfort her. But he knew he could not. So instead, he merely spoke again; a very small comfort, but it was all he could give her. "Sanae. Please."

Breathing as lightly as possible, Sanae chanted a prayer of love and devotion to her Amanushi in her head, wishing fervently that he was alive and near her. Anything to get away from this torture—_this farce of marriage!_ She did still love the man who stood before her now. But it just wasn't the same. How could she describe the burning, passionate fire of love she had for Amanushi to a man whose love was a candle with very little wax left?

"Rikichi," was her whispered response, more of a sigh of breath than a word.

He felt himself unconsciously leaning forward to catch her words, but pulled himself back into a stiff upright pose. And with good reason, for the moment his shadow came a little closer to her, she shrunk closer to the wall.

She tried again to speak, voice crackling with pent-up emotion. "Rikichi. Please, just leave."

The words cut into him deeply, and his position resembled one of a puppet cut loose from its strings as he slumped back. Rikichi managed a weak shadow of a smile, and automatically tried to pat her on the shoulder as reassurance—that he could take this abuse.

"Don't!" Her voice rose sharply with panic, and he cursed himself inwardly for that habit-formed reaction. When they had been together, he had always reassured her with a comforting hand on her shoulder whenever she was upset. Her eyes were clenched shut with pain. He didn't know if it was the pain of him being there or the pain of remembering their lives together.

Turning away, he reluctantly moved towards the exit. He paused at the steps to glance back at the still form of his wife. She had not moved a muscle. Tears formed at the edge of his eyes, but he ruthlessly forced them back, knowing that they would not help. Nothing would.

"Sanae," he said quietly, voice quavering with longing and love that she would not accept nor give, "We'll be back in Kanna within a few days."

The broken woman had not looked at her husband once during that exchange of awkward words. She felt a wave of relief roll over her when the door closed completely, and she was once again in darkness. Only the rumbling of the working machine kept her company now. And she began to cry silently, mouth open in a maw of agony but no sounds emerged. Her hair created a shield around her from everyone else, and she felt safer alone. Hands more like claws clutched at her face, tears seeping through her thin fingers onto her clothing and the cold floor. The unfamiliar softness of her hands and face merely added to the unreality in which she was living. A farmer should be hardened by the winds and the labor—yet she showed no signs of the farmer she had once been. For her, it was just further proof that she and Rikichi were no longer meant to be.

How could she return to Rikichi? After everything that she had been through, after experiencing true love with her beloved deceased emperor—how?

The answer was plain to her, even if Rikichi didn't realize it yet: **she could not**.

At that moment, Rikichi had returned to the blinding light of the upper deck of the ship, and he held up one hand to shadow his eyes. He told himself firmly that the water that swelled in his eyes was from the rapid need to blink in the dry, hot air.

"Rikichi."

A tanned man clad in a white cloak moved closer to him with a serious expression on his face. His wavy, dark brown hair swept across his features in the wind as the ship moved rapidly through the desert. Even with the quick movements of the floor beneath him, he managed to stay completely balanced with an ease that Rikichi had always envied. The samurai always seemed able to adjust to anything. His eyes were always somewhat cold, weary and piercing, but the gentle tone in his voice belayed that fact.

"How is Sanae?"

The farmer managed a smile and bow to the samurai, composing himself. He wasn't surprised that the great man had known that he had gone to see her. "Kambei-sama. She..." he hesitated before continuing. "...she needs some time still."

Noting the pained expression in Rikichi's face, Kambei said nothing more about Sanae, changing the topic to a safer one. "Be prepared. The final battle is approaching, and we are counting on you to assist the villagers in war preparations."

"Yes Kambei-sama—"

The samurai cut him off before he could continue. "But," he said warningly. "But do not push yourself too far. You aren't useful to anyone if you don't let your ribs heal."

Rikichi unconsciously clutched at his side in remembrance of that accident, when he had tried to pull the trigger of the Nobuseri's enormous weapon. It had been a rash action, but well worth the morale boost it had given the other villagers. "Y-yes Kambei-sama," he murmured.

He was surprised when a white gloved hand clasped his shoulder firmly. Looking at Kambei, he saw a sympathetic, encouraging smile that he hadn't expected to ever see on the normally emotionless samurai. A minute later, Kambei walked away to speak with Shichiroji, and Rikichi bitterly thought of the way Sanae had reacted to his own, similar effort to comfort her.

Yet, that kind motion on Kambei's part did make him feel like there was still hope.

Sanae... He felt his heart lurch up in his throat, a pounding that crushed his attempts to breath, and he wondered if he was about to faint. The feeling faded after a few minutes of standing against a wall. Running one hand through his short hair, the man shook his head. He still loved her so much, but...

He cursed the Nobuseri, he cursed the Amanushi, he cursed his own weakness and fear. Thoughts rushed through his mind, tumultuous and whirling with such madness that he wondered if he would go mad: _if only he had been stronger, if only he had been braver, if only he had been able to do something to keep Sanae from leaving!_

Laughter and shouts could be heard on the other side of the ship, and he easily identified Kikuchiyo and Komachi by their voices. The priestess was probably with them as well. He shook his head slightly and moved to look for a quiet spot on the small vessel, away from everyone else. He found Kyuzo sitting at the back, away from the rest of their group. The blonde samurai did not turn to look at him, and Rikichi felt grateful that he did not have to converse with another well-meaning speaker. Not that Kyuzo was the type to try and comfort him.

Finally, he found a small corner of the ship unoccupied by anyone else. Able to lower the mask of calm that he did not feel and that he had tried to keep on around the others, he rested his body against the cold metal of the ship. He was in pain—the continuous rejection of Sanae was almost too much to bear.

Unseen by the rest of the crew, he slammed his fist against the wall and allowed himself to crumble into a helpless heap. "Damn it!" he hissed through his teeth, no longer able to keep the tears back.

His memory would not leave him be. He could still remember the relief and unbridled joy when he had been told that Sanae had been saved. Even at that moment, which he now remembered with agonizing irony, he had ignored the strange, hesitant looks on everyone's faces when they had told him.

_He had rushed towards the closed door, so happy, so thankful that they could be reunited and get on with their lives. Together at last. "Sanae! Sanae!" To his surprise, there was no response from inside. He brushed his fear aside, almost tripping as he reached the door. He could finally make things right! They could be together again!_

"_Sanae, it's me, Rikichi!" Love throbbed in his voice._

"_Don't come in."_

_Those cold, tearful words kept him from sliding the door open. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. His hands began to shake as he touched the door, slowly sliding down to his knees. "Sanae...Sanae. Please. Open the door." He knew that if she willing opened the door for him, it would mean that everything was all right._

"_Sanae!" he shouted loudly, to no avail._

_But she wouldn't. She wouldn't open it for him._

Emotions roiling, his memory was relentless as he recalled every little detail of their meeting—the way she could not look at him when he finally made his way into the room, the way her eyes lit up with love for another man, the shame (_the ever-present __**shame**__!_) that coiled within his guts and would not leave him be. Every night so far, he had awakened with a horrible feeling in his throat and tears in his eyes. It was beginning to affect him, in the way he moved around the others as well as the way that he looked. Bags had begun to form under his eyes, deeper and darker than ever before. He brushed it off as an inability to sleep in such an unfamiliar place, though he had slept fine when they had first gone into the city.

And in two different areas on the vessel, two separated lovers cried with no one to comfort them. Both cried for love lost. One love was dead: soul gone to the next world. The other love was alive: soul gone to the next world.

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Well, I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. I have a feeling it may be a rough ride for Sanae and Rikichi. Thanks for reading!


	2. A Truthful Lie

I have finally finished Chapter Two. Yay! I hope you enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Samurai 7 or its characters.

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Chapter Two—A Truthful Lie

The next day, Rikichi did not attempt to approach Sanae again. He stayed away from everyone else as best he could, and spent his time staring out into the barren landscape, leaning against the side of the vessel. It was better than trying to examine the barrenness of his heart. He wanted so badly to hold her, to keep her close and whisper how everything was going to be all right. But did he really have a claim on her anymore? She had made it clear enough that she no longer wanted to feel his touch.

"Something wrong?"

He quickly looked over his shoulder to see a smiling orange-haired man who was adjusting his hat with two thickly gloved hands. Eyes closed as he beamed, he looked young, though his relaxed voice indicated his age to be older than his appearance.

"Heihachi-sama," he said, acknowledging the samurai's presence. Rikichi looked back to the wasteland, unwilling to impart his problems on anyone else. "I-it's nothing."

"I don't know if I'd call this nothing," the smiling man chuckled, taking a seat next to the farmer. "It seems to me that you're having trouble with your wife."

Wincing, Rikichi continued to stare out rather than meet the gaze of his perceptive companion. But he could not deny the truth of Heihachi's words. Sanae barely tolerated his presence at times; she went into depressive sulks that no one could snap her out of for hours. And he only seemed to make it worse when he tried to support her.

Eyes lowered, he agreed softly. "Yes. I...I don't know what to do Heihachi-sama." He clutched the railing tightly with his hands, twisting to face Heihachi completely. "Do you have any suggestions?"

Heihachi sheepishly scratched at his cheek, eyes still closed in thought. "Well, I'm not really that good with women. Sorry, I don't think I can help you there."

"Oh..." He looked down at his hands, depression etched in his position.

Looking over with some sympathy, the wood-cutting samurai rubbed his chin. "Actually, if I were you..." he paused, seeing the hope in Rikichi's eyes. He laughed embarrassedly. "If I were you, I would just give up."

"Wha-What?" stammered Rikichi in confusion. "Why would you say that Heihachi-sama?"

"Well maybe that's just me." He used his arms as a prop for his neck. "I told you, I'm not really good with women. I've always been a bit of a jealous type of guy. That's _why_ I stopped having relationships." A sad expression flitted onto his face for a moment, perhaps a moment of honest pain, before his usual smile reformed itself.

The farmer was stunned, uncertain of how to respond to this admission of weakness. "You, great samurai?"

"Yeah. My own fault really. I tried it out a few times, but every time my girl would leave my sight..." His words petered off, leaving the rest to Rikichi's imagination.

The images that popped up in his mind were not very pleasant: arguments, cruel words shot at each other during a lonely dinner, maybe even a few physical fights. And he knew who would be the victor in a real fight. Heihachi always wore a thick jacket that made him look larger, even a bit plump, but Rikichi had seen the wiry, thin body underneath before. Heihachi was skinny, but had plenty of muscle, especially on his arms and upper body—it would be easy for him to smack a woman around _and_ be able to stop any attempted repercussions.

"Did you...?" He didn't know how to put it.

The samurai glanced over, and seemed to understand the question. His weak, almost bitter smile merely confirmed his suspicions. "I hit a woman once." He stared off into the distance, recalling the instance. "Just once, but it was enough to prove to me that I couldn't keep my temper. Stupid, really." The bark of laughter translated his embarrassment and shame, and he gritted his teeth. "She was a great girl. It was all my fault. So...that was that. I stopped having relationships after that."

Wide eyes stared at him in shock, but at the same time, Rikichi felt gratification that this complicated man would share such a poignant, painful part of his past with him. "And is that why you say I should give up?"

He laughed lightly, brushing aside the past pain that his memories had brought him. "Yeah, I guess that is why I'm saying that. Women are hard to understand, and you need to be both caring and strong for them. I'm just not strong enough."

Scratching at one arm absentmindedly, Rikichi wondered if _he_ was strong enough for Sanae. Should he give up, like Heihachi said? He knew the answer to that question though; he knew it in his gut. There was no way he could do any differently without feeling that he had let himself down. The very thought sent a jolt of misery and pain up his throat. So he shook his head at Heihachi. "I'm sorry Heihachi-sama."

He looked at him curiously. "Huh?"

Rikichi got down to his knees and bowed as lowly as possible. "I'm sorry Heihachi-sama, but I must reject your kind advice." Heihachi regarded him with unreadable eyes. "I understand your position, but Sanae means everything to me. She is **everything** to me. I can't bear to let her go so easily."

He looked up with surprise when he heard a low, soft laughter. Heihachi was laughing quietly, shaking his head before recovering his composure. "Rikichi, you don't need to apologize for not listening to me. We're different people, and what works for me may not work for you. If you love Sanae this much, then I guess...as your friend, I should support you fully." He grinned. "Go get her, Rikichi. I'm sure if you are this adamant about keeping her as your wife, she will come back to you soon."

Rikichi quickly lowered his head again to recomplete his bow. "Thank you for your words, great samurai. Your support is most kind."

"Quit bowing Rikichi." He placed a hand on the farmer's shoulder affectionately. "We're all equal here. Just friends." He rose, glancing over to the piloting area of the ship. "I better go talk to Shichiroji and Kambei now. Got to make sure my little pot is still working."

Rising as well, the reddish-brown haired man blinked slightly at the word "pot", before remembering that that was what Heihachi had nicknamed the machine he had taken from the Nobuseri. "Take care, great samurai."

"Aww, no need for such formality." He waved slightly at Rikichi before walking away. "After this war is over, we should sit down and talk over a bowl of rice, all right? We can talk all about our women troubles then."

Rikichi almost smiled at Heihachi's relaxed words. He would look forward to such a time when the farmers and samurai could finally relax and live in peace. It was a time worth fighting for. And if he persevered with Sanae...maybe she would be at his side at that time. And that was truly worth fighting for.

Gathering himself, he decided to try to speak to Sanae again today. He had seen her this morning, out of her earlier funk and willing to walk around and speak with Komachi and Kirara. That made her much more approachable—but he would have to choose a topic that wouldn't hurt her. '_Reminding_ _her of our past, maybe. The funny parts_,' he mused, knowing that they had spent many hours together before the Nobuseri, laughing about the antics that had occurred between them.

He made his way to the center of the ship, where he found Sanae and Kirara sitting on the side, watching Komachi use Kikuchiyo as a horse. The robot samurai did not seem to mind his designation as a steed, and though he complained loudly, he always bucked and neighed convincingly when Komachi asked for it. It was a heartening sight in these difficult times.

Both women looked at him when he walked up, Kirara with polite curiosity and Sanae with calm indifference. "Excuse me, water priestess," he said softly. He paused when a comprehending gleam appeared in her large brown eyes. She put a hand reassuringly on Sanae's arm before excusing herself to check on Kyuzo and if he needed anything.

He felt awkward towering over Sanae like this—him standing and her sitting—so he asked, "May I sit next to you?"

Her response was not encouraging, but not disheartening either. "The seat is open, Rikichi. Do as you like."

Sitting down next to her, he noticed slightly pink marks on her face and arms of healing scratches. His eyes widened with worry, but he suppressed his urge to grab her arms and ask what had happened. It would only drive her further away from him. The silence was palpable, him not knowing how to begin, and her hoping he would not speak.

"Hey, hey squirt! Don't pull my hair so hard; you'll tear it off!" protested the loud, raucous voice of Kikuchiyo as he struggled to keep Komachi from falling off his shoulders while he ran around. The small girl had automatically let go of his hair, which meant she almost lost her balance immediately. His hands quickly grabbed onto her, and he pulled her around so that she was facing his face. "I didn't say let go! You could've fallen, you crazy kid!"

She regarded him with huge, solemn eyes. "I trust you Kiku. You wouldn't let me fall." The words seemed to embarrass the gruff samurai, and he grumbled nonsensically before placing her back on his shoulders.

"Just don't let go this time. We don't want you falling off the ship, all right? Then I'd have no one to order around." He quickly ran off, not necessarily in the direction she pointed, since he couldn't see where her finger was. Both farmers watched them disappear behind a jutting out part of the ship.

"Nu-uh! You'd be a lonely sidekick without me!" were the final words of Komachi that they caught before the wind twisted any more words away.

Now they really were alone.

"How do you feel, Sanae?" he finally asked, not knowing what else to say to begin the conversation.

She smiled weakly at him, but there was no warmth in her response. "I feel as well as I can feel at the moment. Thank you for your concern."

"That is...good." He paused. It was obvious that she didn't want to talk to him. But he knew that he couldn't just leave her by herself. He needed to show her that he would support and wait for her as long as possible.

"Do...do you remember how we first met?" The memory immediately brought a smile to his face, though Sanae merely regarded him with blank eyes.

As if the words were reluctantly dragged out of her, she spoke. "I do."

A laugh broke from his lips, unintended, but unable to be taken back. He regretted it immediately by the way she turned her head away and didn't make eye contact with him. Taking a deep breath as quietly as possible, he continued. "Just remembering it always brings a smile to my face."

Sanae said nothing, but she remembered quite well—it was one of the few memories she had actually kept close when she was in the Capital.

_The sun was beginning to lower, almost hiding completely in the green hills of plants, illuminating them with a lustrous red and orange glow. The few clouds in the sky were moving off to the west as a brief, but violent wind picked up. A small girl of twelve watched solemnly with big brown eyes that seemed to take up half her face. She sat quietly on a large box that had been left outside, forgotten with the recent events. A villager had broken his leg while traveling back from the city, and had gotten caught in a ravine. After some men had found him, they had to leave him and summon more villagers to properly get him out without injuring him further. The children and some of the mothers had been left to tend to the rice._

_This was her first chance to take a break all day, and she enjoyed the breeze that had slowed to a gentle brush against her dirt-covered skin. A few of the other girls had begged her to sneak off with them and see the poor man who had fallen, but she had declined, preferring to spend some time by herself. In a village where everyone knew everyone, it was hard to find privacy. But it was a good life, and she had few complaints, even if sometimes she was exhausted or punished for bad behavior. '_Of course, parents have their faults. But it **isn't** their fault for being old, which probably would make anyone silly with anger,'_ she thought leniently. She had forgiven their transgressions because she loved them—and had decided long ago to be the bigger and better person._

_Kicking her feet till they hit against her seat, making a fun little drumming tune, she daydreamed about the day that she was old enough to have __**real **__responsibilities that weren't stupid. And maybe she would even find herself a nice husband who would work for her and do what she asked. It was a pleasant and vaguely new thought that had been arising more and more as she noticed the way her own parents took care of each other. The only problem was that boys were still so stupid._

"_So immature," she grumbled out loud, remembering the cruel prank one particularly snot-nosed boy of eleven had played on her last month. He had snuck a frog down her back and screwed up a whole four hours worth of basket weaving she had done for her mother as a surprise to show her dutiful nature._

_In response, she had righteously snitched to his parents about how he had been very lax with his work—often bullying younger kids to finish his tasks while lazing about. They had responded as she had wished and kept a much closer eye on him since. In truth, Sanae hated tattle-tailing, but that had been a special case._

_To ensure that she bore no guilt, she even discussed it with a fifteen year old girl, much wiser and worldly than any stupid boy. She had been reassured that the punishment was just and done with great dignity—there was nothing to be worried about now. No god would punish her for her tattling._

"_Excuse me, Sanae?" asked a gentle voice in a rich, generous baritone—a man's voice. She instinctively straightened out of respect for someone older than her, before actually glancing at him beneath lowered eyelashes, hoping he wasn't here to scold her._

_Her posture immediately slouched to normal when she realized that it was a mere boy. By the looks of him, he was either her age or a bit older. '_Old enough to change his voice_,' she thought to herself scathingly, unwilling to deal with another immature kid. "What?" she asked flatly, unfriendly-like._

_He smiled at her, such a kind and forgiving smile, which caused her to reassess him as more mature than she had originally thought. "I just spoke with your mother."_

"_What!" she exclaimed, less of a question and more of an act of surprise. She quickly ran through the last few days, trying to remember if she had done something wrong. At the same time, she scanned the boy carefully, noting that he was quite a bit taller than her with a scruffy head of red—wait no, brown—hair. He was sort of cute, she decided but his nose was too big for her taste. It didn't jut out, but sort of lay on his face like it was resting. Though his chin was nice; it was squared but somehow appealing. What was his name? She had seen him before, but had never spoken to him. Ree...Reechi? _

_A peculiar thought occurred to her. What if he was here...and had spoken to her mother...to ask for her hand? What if he was here to ask her out? The idea pleased her, knowing that she could garner the attention of an older boy. But she was also displeased, because he wasn't her kind of boy. He was grimy, covered in dirt like her, and didn't have flowing long locks of blonde hair or beautiful blue eyes. She almost let out an audible sigh, thinking about her dream boy. Blonde-hair, blue-eyed people weren't too common around these parts, which just made them more interesting._

_She decided to quickly lead him off, before he asked her out. "I'm sorry. But I...I have a boyfriend!" she said, her words rushing at the end as she suddenly thought of the excuse._

_A strange look was directed her way, and the boy smiled again, politely, one hand coming up to mess with one of his small earrings. "Um...all right. But your mother wants you to come and help her with knitting."_

_Sanae stared at him with dawning understanding; her cheeks flushed bright red. "O...Oh. Right. I'll...go right away." She hopped off her seat, but almost fell in her fluster. The boy immediately reacted, grabbing onto her arm and waist to keep her from landing face first._

"_Hey, you should be careful," he warned in his soft voice. "Wouldn't want your boyfriend to hit me, huh?" He blinked with confusion when her face burned even brighter. "I'm Rikichi by the way."_

"_Sanae," she whispered, before remembering that he already knew that. Before he could say anything else to her, she quickly brushed past him and ran towards the direction of her house, sandals flapping loudly. One hand traced her red cheek—how embarrassing! He hadn't even been interested in her like that. She prayed that next time they spoke she wouldn't put her foot in her mouth so quickly._

"I was so confused when you had told me that you had a boyfriend. All I wanted was to get back to work after finishing my errand." He chuckled with renewed warmth, remembering his first impression of her as a strange but funny girl. Glancing over, he noticed that she was still staring away at her hands, absently caressing one with the other. His voice very gentle, he asked her, "But you didn't really have one did you? It was just a trick to keep me from asking you out."

She didn't respond to his inquiry, mind still lost in the _once-was_ and _now-is_ that had changed so much for her. Being so young and naïve then, she had been charmed over time by Rikichi's manners and quiet voice. But now, she needed more than that. She needed a real man, who could take care of her and love her—who would fight for her. '_Like my Amanushi...' _she thought sadly, tears threatening to well up in her eyes even as Rikichi tried to cheer her up. No, Rikichi was far too timid, too weak now. She could see it now.

And this charade needed to end.

Once this was done, she could finally rest and find her way back to her Emperor. When she turned her head to look with a side-glance at her husband, Rikichi immediately went quiet, giving her a moment to speak if she wished to.

"It was funny," she murmured quietly, and a surge of joy erupted in Rikichi's chest at her response.

He struggled to keep himself from leaning closer to her, remembering yesterday's reaction. His voice revealed his eagerness for her to interact further with him. "Y-yes! In hindsight, it was rather funny—" She cut him off when her face suddenly turned away completely from his. He paused in uncertainty, not wishing to alienate her, but wanting so much to speak to her the way they used to.

"Maybe...maybe this time though, it's true."

"Wha...What are you saying, Sanae?" She refused to look at him.

"This time...I'm not lying. I'm sorry Rikichi, but we can't keep lying to ourselves." Before he could stop her or say anything, she stood, avoiding his entreating gaze. "It's over. There's no point in trying to keep doing the impossible. I..." She hesitated for the first time, knowing how much she was hurting him, and hating herself more for it, "I can't be your wife. I'm...a corpse. Just a walking **corpse**." She bit out the word with more bitterness than even she had expected. "Please, find another woman who is still warm with love and emotion."

"Sanae," he said pleadingly, one hand reaching to touch her arm, which she pulled out of the way with a quick jerk. That rejection stung even further, but he brushed it aside, his voice throbbing with yearning and love, "Sanae, all I want is you."

"We can't always have what we want Rikichi." She closed her eyes in pain, knowing how much she wanted what was impossible. In that, she could almost sympathize with him. Gentling her voice to lessen the cruel plainness of her words, she spoke. "Please, for my sake and yours: find someone else. I am useless to you now."

He stared into the back of her head, as if that alone could bring her to her senses. Why couldn't she see that he wanted her and only her? But she refused to look at him now, fearing that the fragile remains of her would simply shatter completely if she had to do this while looking into such a loving gaze.

"I think I'll go speak with Kirara." Without any other excuse, she quickly walked away to the front of the ship, wishing Rikichi would just let things be. She didn't want to hurt him any further, but she couldn't bear to keep leading him on. Love just wasn't possible anymore—her heart had died with Amanushi.

"Wait! Sanae!"

She winced as his rough hand grasped her forearm. Trying to pull away, she was surprised by the strength of his grip, even as the fingernails of her other hand dug into his flesh. "Rikichi. Please. Let. Go!" she hissed out, each word emphasized by her attempts to free her arm.

"A grave." Her eyes flew to his face, but he was looking away from her, down at the floor. She could see the muscles in his face jump with tension as he spoke. "I will build you a grave."

Hair whipped around her cheeks from the ever-coming wind, and she knew confusion colored her words. "What?" Did he really know her plans? Fear rose in her throat cutting off her breath. Or did this mean that he intended to kill her himself?

"If you would just stay with me Sanae. Just a little longer. I will build you your grave for the Amanushi and for the unborn child." His grip on her arm tightened with emotion so much that she let out a small cry. "Please Sanae! Just stay a little longer. That is all I ask."

'_A grave for Amanushi.'_ The thought struck her, and her struggling ceased completely as her mind caressed that thought lovingly. Maybe...maybe that would be worth living in this hell. Just for a little longer. Even if she had to be with the one man she wanted to avoid. For Amanushi and her lost child, she would do almost anything. "All right."

His breath hitched in his throat and he couldn't stop the hope from entering his voice. "Really?" He gazed at her still lovely face that was turned away from him again, though he could see the sharp nod that gave her agreement. A small smile grew onto his face, but her next words froze his budding relief.

"Don't think that this changes anything. It is over Rikichi." Her gaze was unfocused as she looked in his direction, and he knew she wasn't looking at him, but at her love. "I only wish to ensure my Amanushi's proper passing into the next life. Afterwards, I do not think we will cross paths again." She abruptly pulled her arm from his hand, and rubbed at the reddening area. "It would only cause more pain."

This time he let her walk away, and he sighed heavily, slumping back down into his seat. He had won more time with her—but at what cost? He had no desire to build a grave for that monster but...if it would bring her closer to him... He let his head fall into his hands, elbows resting on his knees. If only things were as simple as they once had been.

Minutes dragged by as he struggled to stop the flurry of thoughts that threatened to overwhelm his senses. Breathing in and out harshly, he struggled to stop the rampage. Oblivious to his surroundings, he did not hear the footsteps as someone came to a stop next to him.

"Hey, how'd it go?" He reluctantly looked up to meet the concerned gaze of Heihachi. The samurai grinned at him sympathetically. "From the looks of you, you could use some rice."

"I think I could use something stronger." He winced at the hoarse, throaty quality of his voice.

* * *

End of Chapter 2! I shall try to get on Chapter 3 as soon as possible. Please do not hesitate to review and tell me what you think.


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